


Friendships

by Dawn Cunningham (Delta_Dawn)



Series: Highlander Post-Tessa stories [3]
Category: Highlander: The Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 16:11:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7179200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Delta_Dawn/pseuds/Dawn%20Cunningham
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Has Methos taken Richie's head? Joe thinks so. Will he tell MacLeod? Will MacLeod go after Methos?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friendships

Friendships by Dawn Cunningham

Standard disclaimers apply. Duncan, Richie, Methos and Joe belong to Rysher. Most others are figments of my imagination.

This is a fourth season story that takes up right after Chivalry.

I wrote this many years ago. It was one of my earliest stories. 

*************************** 

Friendships by Dawn Cunningham

Joe Dawson unlocked his front door and went inside, surprised that the house was dark. His house guest, Adam Pierson a.k.a. Methos, should have been back by now. He heard the chiming of the clock on the mantle. Eight o'clock. Weariness wracked his body, making him glad that it was Mike's turn to handle the bar tonight.

Joe had spent the past few days with Kristen's Watcher, Beth, who wanted to know who the Immortal was that took Kristen's head. It hadn't taken Joe long to realize that it had been Methos and he had spent the rest of the time doing damage control. Fortunately, Beth hadn't gotten a good look at this mysterious Immortal, the darkness of night hiding his features. Nor had she ever run into Adam Pierson, the Watcher. Now the official report had been sent: death by unknown Immortal. Beth had been reassigned and was off packing even now. Soon she would be in sunny Florida and Adam Pierson's secret identity would still be safe.

Joe reached for the light switch and flicked it on. He blinked a few times in the sudden brightness and then he heard a moan come from his living room couch. He walked around the end of the couch to discover Adam, lying face down, oblivious to Joe's presence. A quick nudge with his hand only brought another moan from the Immortal.

Joe decided to let the ancient Immortal sleep where he was. Turning, he spotted something that changed his mind. Once more he nudged Adam's prone body, much harder than before. "Adam, wake up! What the hell have you done?"

Methos rolled over and managed to pry his eyelids open. He looked bleary-eyed at Joe for a moment before he responded. "Huh?"

"Why did you do it?" Joe asked.

Methos struggled to a sitting position. For a moment he rested his aching head in his hands before looking up at Joe. "What are you talking about, Joe?"

"I'm talking about *that*." Joe waved towards the coffee table.

Methos' gaze followed Joe's hand. He went pale at the sight. Two swords, both bloodstained, lay on the table in front of him. One of them belonged to him, and the other...it was a Columbus Clam Shell rapier, the same type of sword that Richie Ryan carried. "Joe,...I...I don't know what to say."

"Did you think we wouldn't find out? When I told you that I didn't have a Watcher currently assigned to Richie, as a favor to you I might add, did you see it as an easy Quickening that no one would ever know about? Richie was my friend, damn it! The least you could have done was hide his sword!" Joe picked up the rapier and practically thrust it in Adam's face.

Methos stared at the rapier in disbelief. He had no idea how it got there. The last thing he could remember was leaving the dojo earlier that afternoon. "Joe, I don't know what happened. It must have been someone else. I must have just found the sword," he tried to explain.

"Someone else? I doubt it. Take a look at yourself."

Methos looked down. He could see numerous tears and rips in his sweater and pants. The darkened blood stains stood out against the lighter gray of his sweater. Faced with this incontrovertible proof of a sword fight, as well as the bloodied swords could only mean one thing. He must have taken Ryan's head. "Honest, Joe, I don't remember doing it. Maybe... maybe the kid challenged me. After all, he was pretty upset about Kristen."

Even as Methos offered this possible explanation, he dismissed it himself. He had seen Richie at MacLeod's earlier today and it had been more shame than anger that had shown in the young man's face.

"Do you really think that Richie would challenge one of MacLeod's friends? Even if he did, surely you could have just disarmed him. After all, you're five thousand years old! Richie was what...twenty one? ...twenty two? What kind of challenge was that? There couldn't have been any reason to take his head."

"Maybe that's what I did. Maybe I didn't take his head." Methos quickly grasped at this straw of hope.

"Then why are you so tired? You look like hell, just like the night you took Kristen's Quickening."

Methos could also recognize the after-effects of a Quickening. It might have been two hundred years since his last one, except for Kristen's, but he could still remember the enervating results. "Joe, I don't know what to say. I can't remember doing it."

"That's a pretty poor excuse, if you ask me." Joe gave a cynical little laugh. "I think you had better leave now. Find someplace else to stay. And if you're smart, you'd get out of town before I tell MacLeod what you did."

"Joe, wait! You can't tell MacLeod. You're not supposed to interfere." Methos panicked at the thought of the Highlander coming after his head. While Methos hadn't been fighting at his full potential the other day while sparring with MacLeod, the other Immortal might have been doing the same thing. That fight had ended with MacLeod's sword at Methos' throat. His hand crept up to unconsciously rub the spot where the sword had rested.

"You must be kidding! You want me to let MacLeod wonder for the rest of his life about what happened to Richie? Why he disappeared suddenly? It would tear him apart. Richie was more than just a student to MacLeod. He was his friend and in many ways he was family. He lived with Duncan and Tessa before he became immortal."

"Okay. Fine. Just don't tell him that it was me who took his head. After all, there's really no proof that I did it," Methos pleaded.

"This sword is all the proof I need and you should know MacLeod better than that. He'll keep hounding me for the Watcher records until he gets a name. You're out of luck, *my friend*. Time for Methos to go back into hiding. Or risk losing your head to MacLeod."

"Tell me this, Joe. Will you be able to live with yourself if either I or MacLeod loses a head over this? Because you had to interfere?"

Joe looked at Methos in disgust, unable to believe how little he knew this ancient Immortal. "Oh, no. You're not shifting the blame onto me! You knew that I was MacLeod's friend as well as Richie's. You should have known that I wouldn't let you get away with this."

"I thought I was your friend too, Joe," Methos said quietly.

"You *were*," Joe sadly replied as he turned away from Methos to stare out the picture window. "Now please leave before I'm tempted to take your head myself."

Methos stared at Joe for a long moment not knowing what to say. He could tell that Joe was hurt by this whole thing but until he could remember why he had fought with Richie, there was no way of defending himself. Instead he left the room silently, taking his sword with him, returning ten minutes later in different clothes, carrying his duffel bag.

Joe still stood at the window staring unseeingly into the darkness. Methos watched him for a few moments before speaking. "Joe, I'm sorry." When Joe's only response was a disbelieving snort, Methos headed for the front door. With one final glance back at his Watcher friend, he opened the door and went out into the night.

Hearing the door latch click freed Joe from his frozen state. He headed for his bar and grabbed a bottle of Scotch and a glass. He carried them back to the couch and sat down, contemplating the bloody sword sitting in front of him. He poured himself a drink and quickly downed it. He poured another before he reached for the cordless phone sitting on the table and dialed Richie's number. Maybe he had been wrong. Maybe the sword belonged to another Immortal. He needed to be sure before he told MacLeod anything. He owed Methos as well as MacLeod at least that much. No answer. He tried the bar next. Mike hadn't seen Richie that night but promised to contact Joe if he should show up. After giving some more orders, Joe hung up.

Joe stared at the phone in his hand. He knew that he should call MacLeod next but couldn't bring himself to dial the number. Instead, he found himself remembering Richie. The boy telling Joe that Watchers gave him the creeps, then later throwing himself in front of Joe to take the bullets meant for him. Then there was the time that Richie had come to him for advice, wanting to believe that he was young Jeremy's father. Joe could still remember the disappointment on Richie's face when he had told him that no Immortal had ever had children.

A somewhat happier memory came to mind when he remembered the day Richie had come into the dojo's office, triumphantly waving his trophy after winning his first race in Florida. He could still see the kid's wide grin although it had faded quickly when neither Joe nor Duncan had congratulated him. They had been too busy worrying about Kalas at the time.

There were just so many memories to sort through. Joe, unaware of the passing time, was surprised when he heard the clock chime eleven times. Where had the night gone? Where had the Scotch gone? The bottle sitting in front of him was almost empty. He tried Richie's number one more time. Still no answer. Joe rose unsteadily to his feet and weaved his way back into the bedroom. Tomorrow he would tell MacLeod.

*****

The next morning, Joe sat in his car outside of MacLeod's dojo trying to get up the courage to go in and tell MacLeod the bad news. He had spent most of the morning arguing with himself about whether to tell MacLeod who had taken the young Immortal's head. The last thing he wanted was to have Methos and MacLeod fighting each other in earnest. On the other hand, MacLeod needed to know about Methos' treachery and be on guard against the ancient Immortal. With a deep sigh, he headed into the dojo.

As he opened the doors into the dojo, Joe could see MacLeod doing a kata. The man was poetry in motion. Each move executed in a precise manner, mind and body in perfect harmony. Joe stood silently, unwilling to interrupt but MacLeod somehow knew he was there, turning to grin at him.

"Good morning, Joe. What brings you here this morning?"

"We need to talk, Mac. Maybe we had better go upstairs."

Duncan's grin faded. This sounded serious. "Sure, Joe. Whatever you want." He lead the way to the elevator throwing curious glances at the bundle that Joe was carrying. As the elevator creaked its way up to the loft, Duncan could feel the tension coming from Joe. His own body tensed in reaction.

Once they reached the loft, Joe headed into the room. He kept his eyes on the floor, unwilling to look at Duncan, unable to find the words he needed to say.

"Would you like some coffee, Joe?" Duncan asked. "MacLeod," Joe started but he still didn't know how to say the words that would cause such grief.

A sense of deja vu struck Duncan. The last time Joe had looked like this was when he had come to tell him that May-Ling Shen had been killed. "Who is it, Joe?" he asked, not sure he wanted to know.

"Richie."

"Wh..what!" Duncan collapsed into a nearby chair, his legs unable to hold him up any more. "It can't be. He...he was just here yesterday."

"He hasn't been seen since. I've had people watching his apartment all night but he never came home. And then there's this." Joe thrust the bundle he was carrying at Duncan.

"What is it, Joe?" Duncan stared at the bundle with trepidation, unable to bring himself to even touch it.

"It's Richie's sword."

Duncan slowly removed the wrappings. He stared in horror at the object he now held. Richie's sword. He could feel the waves of grief pulling him down, overwhelming all thoughts but one. Richie was dead.

"I'm sorry, Mac." Joe said the words but he knew they wouldn't help.

"Who was it?" Duncan forced the words out past the lump in his throat that was choking him.

"Methos."

"What?" Duncan stared at Joe in shocked disbelief. "Joe, I don't believe it. Why would Richie's Watcher lie about that? And how did he know Methos' name?"

"Nobody was watching Richie. I sent his regular watcher on vacation when Methos came to town. I didn't want anyone wondering why a researcher would be hanging out with Immortals like you and Richie."

"Then how do you know what happened? Did you see it?" Duncan prayed that his friend had been spared that sight.

"No, I didn't *see* it but I can put the evidence together. One Immortal with torn and bloody clothes, exhausted from a Quickening and two bloody swords all add up to one thing in my book. Someone lost their head. I don't need to see it to know it happened."

Duncan felt like the whole foundation of his life was rocking. Richie killed by Methos? It just didn't seem possible. "Have you talked to him, Joe? Asked him why he did it?"

"He said he didn't remember. Mighty convenient excuse if you ask me," Joe said cynically.

"It just doesn't make sense, Joe. Methos would have no reason to kill Richie." Duncan started pacing around the room.

"What about there can be only one? Mac, what do you know about him? I mean, *really* know? You met the guy less than a year ago. Maybe he has some hidden agenda. You told me yourself that Methos wanted to let Richie find out about Kristen the hard way, even if it meant him getting killed. Maybe there's some reason he wanted Richie out of the way. Maybe he knew how it would affect you."

"Joe, if Methos wanted my head, there's been several times he could have taken it. I even offered it to him when Kalas was hunting us."

"All right, maybe he was jealous of your relationship with Richie. With him gone, maybe Adam thinks he'll take his place. I don't know. There's got to be some reason. Maybe now that he's been reminded what a Quickening is like, he wanted more. You know that some Immortals become addicted to it, turning to headhunting to get as many Quickenings as they can."

"Joe, I think you're really stretching here."

"Well do you have any better ideas?" Joe felt frustrated and angry at the same time. He didn't know how to convince MacLeod that he could be in danger from a man he called a friend.

"No, Joe, I don't." Duncan shook his head in confusion.

"Did he say anything about where he was going after he left here?"

"He said he was going to drive up into the hills, maybe find a quiet spot and do some meditation. I suggested that he try... oh no," Duncan paused as a horrible thought came to him.

"What?" Joe asked.

"I told him about the park where Richie and I go to practice. Maybe he ran into him there."

"I'll have someone check it out, MacLeod. See if there's any sign of a Quickening or if they can find Richie's...body. If it's not there, we'll have to wait and see if the police find it."

If the police find it. The words echoed through Duncan's head. He shuddered at the thought. Would he even get closure on his life with Richie? No body, no funeral, no grave. No last good-byes even to a lifeless body. Did he even want to see Richie's headless body? His stomach churned at the thought and only sheer determination kept it under control.

"So what are you going to do about Methos?" Joe asked.

"I don't know. I need some time to think. It's not cut and dried. Richie was my friend, no he was...family. It would be different if it was a total stranger who killed him. But I've had to kill too many friends in the last few years, Gabriel Piton, Michael Moore, Brian Cullen, Garrick as well as others. I'm not sure I can kill another one. And a part of me still feels some awe about a five thousand year old Immortal. I don't know what I'm going to do."

"Is there anything I can do to help?" Joe asked.

"No. I just need some time alone, Joe." He collapsed back into a chair, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He only dimly heard Joe's good-bye and the sound of the elevator as Joe let himself out.

Duncan wished that Amanda was here. She knew both Richie and Methos. Maybe she could make sense out of what happened. She would understand what he was going through. But she had left weeks ago, highly upset when a mortal girl had been mistaken for Amanda and had almost died because of it. He had only had brief phone calls from her since then. He didn't even know how to get hold of her right now. Although Joe might know. He dismissed the idea. He would tell Amanda the next time she called.

Richie. The young man had cheated death so many times, both before and after he became immortal. The first time had been at the antique store when Duncan had surprised the teenage thief who broke into the store. Confused by the pre-immortal buzz accompanied by the buzz from a nearby Slan Quince and the fact that the teenager had been waving a sword around, he had almost taken the teenager's head himself. Then there had been Felicia, and later Gabriel Piton. Both would have killed the teenager permanently except for Duncan's intervention. And after Richie became immortal, there had been Annie Devlin, Mako, Martin Hyde and Kristov. Richie had been very lucky to be the Immortal who had walked away from those fights. Not to mention the last run in with Kristen. It wasn't fair that Richie should be killed by someone that Duncan trusted and called friend.

Tears ran unchecked down his face as Duncan roamed through his memories of Richie. He had watched him change from the obnoxious street punk to the member of Tessa and Duncan's family to the young Immortal in need of training to the close friend he had become. Impetuous, hot-headed at times, naive, especially when it came to women, loyal. They all described Richie.

There had been times when Duncan could have killed Richie himself. He had a talent for disobeying his orders and getting into trouble. But he would do anything, put up with all the grief and headaches the young man had caused if only it would bring Richie back to life. He hadn't even started to live his life yet and now it was over.

Methos. What was he going to do about him? Duncan thought of him as a friend, especially after that whole incident with the Watcher CD and Kalas. But why would he have taken Richie's head? There hadn't been any hostility between the two of them that Duncan could sense. He knew Richie had felt uncomfortable around Methos or rather Adam Pierson since Richie hadn't known the ancient Immortal's real name. That had been evident when Methos had come in yesterday afternoon while he and Richie had been talking. Richie had left almost immediately. But that had been more embarrassment than anything, the young man had still been upset over how easily he had been duped by Kristen.

Did Methos have a hidden agenda? He had kept insisting that self-preservation was his highest priority that day they had been painting the house Duncan was restoring. Had Methos felt that Richie was a danger either to himself or Duncan?

This was getting him nowhere. He had to see Methos face to face and ask him those questions. Only then would he be able to decide what action to take. Whether to take his head or just walk away, end their relationship until such a time in the future when he could face him again and possibly forgive him.

He headed for his shower. Once he had cleaned up, he would find Methos. However, if the Immortal had left town already, he would not follow him, that much he had decided.

****

Methos stood across the street from the dojo, trying to figure out what exactly he was doing there. If he had been smart, he would have been on the first plane out of town. Looking out for number one was the way he had survived for five thousand years. So why was he even considering walking into the lion's den? He must have been hanging around MacLeod too long. Some of his sense of honor must have rubbed off on him.

He had been keeping on eye on the Highlander long before he had ever met the man. Some deep instinct told him that this Immortal was special, maybe even capable as well as worthy of winning the Prize. However, he had seen too many Immortals torn up by grief who just gave up and let the first passing Immortal take their head. He did not want Duncan MacLeod to end up this way. He was too important to lose.

He had seen Dawson leaving an hour ago. So MacLeod must know everything. He was probably sharpening his sword right now. And then he would come hunting for him. Well, he wouldn't have far to look.

He had spent the sleepless night trying to remember what happened. But no matter how hard he tried, there was a four hour gap missing between the time he had left MacLeod's and when Joe had woken him up. So much could have happened and must have happened during that time period.

He was fairly certain that he had taken a Quickening during that time. But he had never had a memory blackout after one before. Why this one? Why now? If it had been Richie's Quickening, as all of the evidence pointed to, it couldn't have been that powerful. Richie had only taken three heads so far, Mako, Kristov and Mikey. Even Kristen's Quickening would have been stronger. Could it be because he had taken two Quickenings within a week of each other? But he had done that before too, although it had been long ago. He just couldn't come up with any reason for the blackout.

Nor could he come up with a reason for fighting with Richie, let alone taking his head. The only possible idea he had come up with was that maybe they had decided to have a sparring session and something had gone horribly wrong. But he hadn't made any plans to meet with Richie so how had they run into each other? Or maybe the kid had found out he was really Methos and the thought of a five thousand year old Quickening had been too tempting. The questions were endless and the answers were few and far between.

He had one more decision to make and that was whether he should take his sword into the dojo with him. If he left it in the car, there was a good chance that MacLeod wouldn't kill an unarmed man. Not with his sense of honor and chivalry. Still, it went against his instincts to leave the sword behind. No, it would be better to trust MacLeod's honor than his own swordsmanship. He locked his sword in the car and headed for the dojo's door.

He sensed another Immortal as he went in the door. That must mean that MacLeod was in the dojo, not his loft. He took a deep breath and pushed open the swinging doors. MacLeod stood on the far side of the room, katana already in hand. The two warriors faced each other across the room, neither speaking as time seemed to stand still.

Duncan broke the silence first. "Why are you here, Methos? Do you want my head now?" Anger seemed to radiate from the Highlander.

"I came to say I'm sorry about Richie," Methos replied.

Duncan stalked across the room until only three feet separated the men. "You kill my friend and then have the nerve to come here and say you're sorry? You bastard!"

Methos flinched as if he had been physically hit. "MacLeod, I...I." He stopped when he felt the cold metal of MacLeod's katana against his neck.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't take your head, right here, right now," Duncan snarled.

"I'm unarmed!" Methos squeaked out. It took all of his will power to not turn and run. He could see MacLeod struggling between anger and honor. Finally, Duncan dropped his sword and backed off. Methos heaved a sigh of relief. Too soon.

"I can fix that." Duncan crossed to the wall and took down a sword hanging there. He slid it across the floor and it came to rest at Methos' feet.

Methos stared at the sword at his feet and then at the advancing Highlander. "No, I won't fight with you, MacLeod."

"Why not? Am I too big of a challenge? Is it because I'm not a woman or a youngster?" Duncan practically spit the words out in his anger.

"I won't fight you because you are my friend."

Some of the anger drained out of Duncan when he heard those words. "Then why did you kill Richie? He was so young. You knew what he meant to me. Why?"

"I honestly don't know, MacLeod. I can't even remember doing it." It was almost painful for Methos to see the anguish now showing on MacLeod's face. If he hadn't already realized how important Ryan was to MacLeod, he certainly would have discovered it now.

"What do you remember? Do you remember where it happened? What you did with the body afterward?" MacLeod practically pleaded with Methos.

"I'm sorry, MacLeod. The last thing I remember before waking up at Joe's place was leaving here. There's four hours missing."

"Has that ever happened before?" Duncan asked.

"Never. I can't come up with any good reasons at all. I wish I had some answers for you. Hell, I wish I had some answers for myself. But if you want my head, it's yours. At least my Quickening would go to someone worthy of it."

Duncan thought about what Methos had said. He couldn't believe the ancient Immortal was actually offering up his head. It didn't match with someone who would kill another Immortal without good reason. While they might never know what that reason was, he had to give him the benefit of a doubt. "No, I don't want your head," he finally replied.

"So where do we go from here?" Methos asked.

"*We* go nowhere. You leave and don't come back. Otherwise, I might change my mind about taking your head. Maybe some day in the distant future, I'll be able to forgive you but right now, you only bring painful memories."

"Good-bye Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod." Remorse dripped from every word.

"Good-bye Methos." Duncan watched sadly, as the ancient Immortal left the dojo, feeling deep regret at how this friendship had ended. He then headed back to his loft where he started getting quietly drunk.

Methos headed for a nearby liquor store before returning to the rundown hotel he had moved into after being kicked out of Joe's house last night and he too started getting quietly drunk.

*****

Joe sat in his office behind the bar, wishing he could get drunk, but first he had to file a closure report on Richie Ryan. Word had come back that there had been no sign of a Quickening having taken place at the remote park where Richie and Duncan often worked out. So much for that idea.

Joe had been seriously thinking about exposing Methos to the Watcher Organization. It would mean the end of Adam Pierson as far as the Watchers were concerned. But he just couldn't bring himself to do it. He knew there were leaks in the Organization and word would get out that the myth called Methos was alive and well. It would send the wolves howling after him. Not that he didn't deserve it, but Adam Pierson and Joe Dawson had been friends and he couldn't do that to him.

A knock at the door startled him. When he yelled come in, a young man in his thirties walked through the door.

"Are you Joe Dawson?" he asked.

"Yes, I am. And you are?"

"Brad Davison, Chicago. I used to watch Jeff Hargrove." The two men shook hands.

"Used to watch?" Joe asked.

"Yeah, Hargrove lost his head last night. That's why I'm here. I need some names on a couple of Immortals who were involved for my closure report. I figured they were local guys but I'm not sure who they were."

"A couple of Immortals? At the same time? That's against the rules. Most of the local Immortals tend to follow the rules." Joe snickered to himself at that piece of understatement, especially in MacLeod's case.

"Oh, no. They didn't fight together. First one fought Hargrove and then the other."

"Okay. Let's see if we can put names to your Immortals. Describe the first one for me." Joe dialed into the master computer that contained all of the data on Immortals in the Western part of the U.S. and pulled up the search programs to the Watcher's database after keying in several passwords. The Watcher Organization's new system was much more secure than having it all stored on CD disks that were easy to steal or lose.

"Well the first one was in his early twenties, maybe younger. Curly reddish blond hair, rode a motorcycle. I got the license plate number, and I think he was using a rapier although I was too far away to really tell. Ring any bells?"

"Yeah, I think I know exactly who you mean." Joe punched a few keys and brought up Richie's file. "Was this the Immortal?"

"Yep, that's him. Richie Ryan. Got it. Now the second Immortal was..."

Joe interrupted him before he could continue. "Could you hang on for just a minute? I just remembered that I need to make a couple of phone calls. Why don't you go out and have Mike pour you a drink while you wait. It's on the house."

Joe rapidly dialed MacLeod's telephone number praying he wasn't too late to stop him from killing Methos. When MacLeod answered, Joe gave a sigh of relief. "MacLeod, it's Joe. Methos didn't kill Richie. Another Immortal did."

Silence.

"MacLeod, did you hear me?" Joe started worrying again.

"Yeah, I heard you." came the slightly slurred response. "But Richie's still dead."

"I know, Mac, and I *am* sorry but at least now you don't have to go after Methos."

"It's a little late to be telling me this now, Joe."

"What?" Joe practically yelled into the phone. "Don't tell me you've already taken his head!"

"No, I didn't take his head. But I did tell him to never darken my doorstep again. He's probably already headed for parts unknown."

"Maybe not. I'll get my people on it right away. We'll find him, Mac. I owe him a big apology."

"You're not the only one, Dawson. I just hope he'll accept them."

"Yeah. I'll let you know what I find out, Mac. Bye." Joe hung up the phone while yelling for Mike at the same time.

When the other Watcher came into the office, Joe started giving orders. "I need to find Adam Pierson. We had a...a...bit of a falling out last night and he left my place. Check with all of the area hotels to see if he's registered anywhere. Also, check flight departures as well as train and bus stations. It's really important that I talk to him."

"Sure, boss," Mike replied. "What do you want us to tell him when we find him?"

"Just tell him I was wrong and that I have more info about what really happened." Joe saw a confused look cross Mike's face. "Trust me. He'll know what I'm talking about. It's kind of a....personal matter. Have him go to my place and wait for me there. Oh, and send Davison in again."

"Whatever you want, Boss." Mike left the office and soon Brad Davison walked back in.

"Sorry about that, Brad. Just some urgent business that had to be taken care of. Now, shall we move on to the second Immortal?" Joe knew exactly what he was going to hear.

Davison described Methos to a T. "I didn't get a license plate or even the make of the car. He showed up after the first fight had already started. I couldn't get back out to the road without being noticed."

"Hmmm. He doesn't sound familiar at all," Joe lied. They spent the next few hours looking through screen images of different Immortals before he had convinced Davison that the second Immortal wasn't in any of his local archives. "I'll send some inquiries into the main archive but I doubt we'll get lucky. There are just too many Immortals that match that description. Or he could be an Immortal that hasn't been documented yet. Maybe he's new."

"I don't know," Davison sounded skeptical. "He was a pretty good fighter to be a new Immortal. And the way he recovered from that electrical shock...well I've never seen anything like that before. I'm surprised it didn't kill him. But he just got up and staggered off."

"What electrical shock? You mean the Quickening. Was Hargrove that powerful?"

"No. When the Quickening started, a power line fell right across the guy. He should have been electrocuted. I don't know. Maybe they're used to it because of the Quickening but I've never seen sparks fly like that before. Eventually it shorted out and the guy got up, picked up his sword and for some reason picked up Ryan's sword and left. However, he left Hargrove's sword laying by his body."

"Who knows why any Immortal does what he does. Okay, so we have Richie Ryan killed by Jeff Hargrove and..."

"Whoa, wait a minute," Brad interrupted. "Ryan's not dead. Although whether he'll ever get out is another matter."

"What do you mean if he ever gets out?" Joe looked stunned.

"I guess I never did tell you the story did I? Ryan was actually winning the fight before the other Immortal showed up. He must have lost his concentration then because Hargrove sent a deep thrust into Ryan's chest that the kid should have been able to block. When Ryan fell back, he crashed through some rotten boards and fell into a deep well. As far as I know, he's still there. That's when the second Immortal took up the fight."

"So where exactly did this happen?" Joe asked. He had a hard time keeping a grin from spreading across his face. Richie was still alive. "I'll have to assign someone to keep a watch to see if he manages to get out." He carefully wrote down the directions that Davison gave him.

"Well, I might as well head home," Davison said. "I can try and figure out who the second Immortal is from Chicago just as easily as here."

"Well, it's been nice meeting you. Be sure and look me up if you're ever back in the area again."

The men shook hands before Davison left the office and then the bar. Before Joe had a chance to pick up the phone, Mike poked his head inside the office.

"We have an address on Pierson but he's not answering his phone. The desk clerk insists he's in his room. Should I send someone down there?"

"No, I'll go myself," Joe said. "Where is he staying?"

"In a little fleabag hotel." Mike gave Joe the name and address. "If that's all he could afford, maybe the guy needs a raise."

"I'll mention it to his superiors the next time I talk to them." Joe grinned at the thought. "Can you handle the bar again tonight? I don't know when I'll get back."

"No problem, boss."

Joe headed out the door and quickly drove down to the address Mike had given him. A fifty dollar bribe to the hotel clerk got him a key to Adam Pierson's room. Fortunately for Joe, Adam's room was on the first floor. The hotel wasn't exactly handicapped accessible. He walked down the hallway until he came to Adam's room. As he suspected, his knocking brought no results so he unlocked the door and let himself in.

Methos was on the bed, half sitting, half lying down, a half empty bottle of whiskey in his hand. "Go away," he mumbled before taking another swallow from the bottle.

"Can't do that, Adam. I need you to help me with a rescue job."

"And just who am I supposed to rescue?"

"Richie Ryan."

That got Methos' attention. He bolted upright in the bed and stared at Joe as if the man had gone crazy. "Who?"

"You heard me. Richie Ryan. Not only didn't you kill him, he's not even dead. Although he might want to kill you for leaving him behind."

"But the swords?...the Quickening?"

"The Quickening was from a Jeff Hargrove. Apparently he was fighting Richie when you came along. Maybe you saw Richie's bike and decided to stop. Who knows. Anyway, Richie fell into a well and then you took up the challenge instead. During the Quickening you also took a charge from a main power line. That probably explains the amnesia."

Methos shook his liquor befuddled head, trying to make sense out of Joe's words. "So I didn't kill Ryan? I killed someone else? And Richie's still alive?"

"Yes and probably still at the bottom of that well and has been for twenty some hours. Now are you coming or not?" Joe asked.

Methos grabbed his coat and headed unsteadily for the door. "Let's go."

"First, I think we need to sober you up some. Let's go get some coffee. Next time, Adam, stick to beer."

They went to a nearby diner and ordered coffee. While Adam drank his, Joe decided that now would be a good time to apologize. "Adam, I'm really sorry for ever thinking you would have taken Richie's head. I should have known better."

"Joe, given the evidence, how could you have thought anything different. Even *I* thought I had done it."

"Still, that kind of mistake could have gotten you killed. I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions so fast." Joe's guilt showed openly on his face.

Methos lightly laid on hand on Joe's arm. "It all came out right, Joe. I forgive you. We'll never forget this happened but we can move past it. Being your friend means a lot to me."

"Thank you, Methos," Joe replied in a choked voice.

"Now, one more time, tell me what happened," Methos asked.

Joe explained everything he had been told by Brad Davison. When he was done, Adam declared himself as sober as he was going to get and together they went to the dojo to tell MacLeod the good news about Richie.

They found MacLeod in his loft, sifting through a small box of pictures. Most of them were of Tessa but Richie was in many as well. Joe knew that Richie's death must have brought back memories of Tessa's death. Hopefully, his news would remove that look of sorrow from the Immortal's face. Before he had a chance to speak, Duncan started to talk.

"Methos,...I...I'm sorry...I...I..."

Methos cut him off. "There's no need to say anything, MacLeod. We were all working off of false assumptions here. I'm just glad I didn't lose my head because of it." He gave a small smile.

Duncan gave a tentative smile of his own. "You almost did, my friend. You almost did."

"Well, try not to let it happen again, will you?"

"I'll try," Duncan agreed with a wry smile.

"In the meantime, we have things to do," Joe started to speak. "Like rescue an Immortal by the name of Richie Ryan. He sure gets in trouble a lot, doesn't he?" He grinned at Duncan's stunned expression.

Joe quickly repeated the story again. By the end of it, Duncan also had a wide grin on his face. Then he started organizing the rescue party. Soon they were on their way, ropes, flashlights, blankets, and various climbing equipment stored in Joe's trunk.

****

Duncan consulted Joe's directions again. "We should be getting close." They had driven for more than thirty minutes, away from the city, up into the surrounding hills. At first they had been heading in the same direction as the park they practiced in but now they were on a small deserted side road.

"Look there." Methos pointed at a car with a rental sticker on the bumper, sitting on the side of the road, a motorcycle laying on its side in front of it.

Joe pulled the car over and they all climbed out. There was an old deserted house just visible from the road. Grabbing the gear from the car, they started towards it.

"Now we just have to find the well. Does any of this look familiar, Adam?" Joe asked.

"Not really. And yet I'd almost swear I'd been here before." Methos frowned as he tried to remember. "And I guess I was," he said as he pointed to the headless body laying on the ground.

They almost missed the well. Some tree limbs, probably torn off during the Quickening, now covered the hole. Once those had been cleared away, Duncan leaned over, holding on to Methos' hand for support and shone his flashlight into the hole trying to see Richie. He called his name several times but there wasn't any response.

"I can't see anything. The hole's too deep. I'll have to go down there."

"Wait a minute, MacLeod," Methos interrupted. "I'll go down. No offense but I weigh less than you do and I have no desire to have to haul you back up."

Duncan looked like he wanted to argue but he could see that it made more sense for Methos to go down. Together they enlarged the opening before he helped the other Immortal into the climbing harness that they had brought. Methos removed his coat and shoes and Duncan slowly started lowering him into the hole.

As Methos slowly descended into the well, he clicked on the flashlight he was carrying. He pointed it down and could make out the reflection from water below. It looked like something was floating in the water but he couldn't tell what it was yet. It wasn't until he was practically in the water himself before he could see that it was Richie's body.

Methos let out a startled yelp as his feet entered the water. His descent quickly halted, jerking his body around. He almost dropped the flashlight as he grabbed the rope.

"What's wrong?" a disembodied voice filtered down to him.

"Nothing," he yelled back.

"Methos!"

"The bloody water is freezing!" he yelled back. "Just a little further."

He slowly started descending again. "Hold it right there," he yelled when he could reach Richie's body. "Send down another rope."

He struggled to turn Richie's body around so that his face was no longer under water. He hoped that the young Immortal would revive and be able to help with the recovery process. But considering the temperature of the water, Methos was fairly certain it would take him some time to come back to life.

He shone his light around while waiting for the other rope. There were fresh scrape marks in the moss and algae growing above the water level, mute testimony that at some point Richie must have been alive and struggling to find hand holds to pull himself out.

Methos was glad it had been him who came down and that MacLeod had been spared that sight. As it was, he felt a deep pang of sympathy for the young man he currently held in his arms. Out of curiosity more than anything, he turned off his flashlight. Almost total darkness surrounded him. Methos knew it had to have been worse with more boards and tree limbs covering the opening. And once night fell, there wouldn't have been any illumination at all. He started to feel claustrophobic and quickly turned his flashlight back on. This was the kind of thing nightmares were made of. Hopefully Ryan had succumbed to the freezing water shortly after he had fallen in and would not remember much of his stay down here.

"What's taking so long?" he hollered back up the well.

"Hold on. The rope's all tangled up," came the reply.

Methos jumped as another rope finally splashed into the water. He quickly grabbed it and tied it securely around Richie's chest. It took him several tries to tie a secure knot since the freezing water had already caused hands and feet to start going numb. He could feel himself start to shiver as the freezing water affected the rest of him as well.

"O-okay. P-pull m-me up," he stuttered.

Once out of the hole, Duncan and Joe quickly wrapped Methos up in one of the blankets. He sat on the ground trying to warm up while they hauled Richie back to the top. He too was wrapped in a blanket before Duncan slung him over his shoulder and headed back to the car. Joe helped support Methos as they followed behind.

Soon they were all back in the car and headed back to the dojo. Joe turned the heat on full blast when he noticed Methos still shivering under the heavy blanket.

Methos glanced into the back seat. Duncan cradled Richie's body tightly in his arms as if to reassure himself that the young man was really there. Somehow Methos knew that MacLeod wouldn't really believe it until the young Immortal was alive again. Unfortunately that could take hours. He hoped that MacLeod could handle the wait.

When they got back to the dojo, Methos started to get out of the car but was stopped by Duncan.

"No, wait, Methos. Why don't you go back to Joe's place and get cleaned up and warmed up. I can handle it here. You can come back here afterwards...if you want." The last part was tacked on with some hesitancy as if Duncan wasn't sure if Methos would want to come back.

Methos quickly assured MacLeod. "Of course we'll come back." A quick glance at Joe confirmed that he intended to come back also. "Are you sure you don't want us to help you now?"

"I can manage but thanks for asking."

"Okay. The best thing I can suggest right now would be to put Richie in a tub of very warm water. Once his body temperature gets back to normal, he should revive soon."

"Thanks. I'll try that." Duncan hefted his burden again and carried Richie into the dojo. Once in the loft, he carefully set the young man down on the couch while he went into the bathroom and filled the bathtub. He then returned and stripped the young man before carrying him into the bathroom and placing him in the tub.

Once he was satisfied that Richie would not slide under the water, he left him there and returned to the kitchen. He fixed a pot of coffee and set a large pot of soup to simmer on the stove.

Richie's skin was still pasty white but Duncan thought it felt warmer to the touch. Still there was no sign of returning life. Duncan checked the water temperature before draining some of it and refilling it with more hot water.

After several more times of adding hot water to the tub, Richie's skin started to resume a more natural color and felt warmer. Duncan let the water drain from the tub while he placed several large towels on his bed. Returning to the bathroom, he lifted the young man from the tub and carried him back to the bedroom.

Once he had laid Richie on the bed, Duncan dried him off as best he could. He then slipped a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt on Richie. before sliding the young man under the sheets and blankets on the bed.

Duncan had just changed into dry clothes when the elevator creaked into action. Soon it returned carrying Joe and Methos.

"Any sign yet?" Methos asked.

"No. His body temperature has risen but apparently not enough yet,"

"This might help," Joe said as he opened the bag he was carrying. "One electric heating pad at your service."

"Thanks, Joe. That's a great idea."

After a little discussion, it was decided that the best place to set the heating pad was on Richie's chest for now. Duncan plugged it in and slid it under Richie's sweatshirt.

"He'll be fine, MacLeod." Methos tried to reassure the Highlander who still looked worried. "It always takes youngsters longer to recover. You know that. Now, what's that wonderful smell coming from your kitchen?"

"Help yourself," Duncan said. "There's soup and coffee made too or there's..."

"Beer in the fridge," Methos interrupted with a grin. "Since I was the one who put it there--was it only yesterday?--I should hope so."

The three of them shared a laugh. Methos' love of beer had become a standing joke between them. Duncan felt some of the tension between the men abate as the easy going bond of their friendship tried to re-establish itself.

Methos and Joe helped themselves to the soup, coffee and beer but Duncan continued to sit on the bed watching Richie.

Finally Methos said with some exasperation, "MacLeod, haven't you heard the one about the watched pot that never boils? Well, the watched Immortal never returns to life. Come over here and fix yourself some soup."

Duncan came over to the kitchen with a sheepish grin on his face. "I'm sorry. It's just..."

"I know. It's hard to see them die or even to see them dead. You keep thinking what if it doesn't work this time? Well, it always does work, MacLeod, so stop worrying. You can be such a mother hen at times," Methos teased the Highlander.

"Mother hen. That's a perfect description of MacLeod. Maybe I'll put it in his Chronicles." Joe joined in the teasing.

"Don't you dare, Dawson. I'll...I'll...I'll do something just as soon as I figure out a suitable punishment," Duncan threatened.

"How will you ever know?" Joe questioned.

"I'll have Methos check. He's a Watcher too."

"I'll never tell," Methos snickered at the dismayed expression on Duncan's face.

"Relax, MacLeod. I wouldn't put something like that in your Chronicle. Think about how much teasing *I* would get being a Watcher for a mother hen."

Before Duncan could think of a suitable comeback to that last remark, a loud gasp came from the bed. Turning, he saw Richie thrashing around on the bed, struggling with the blankets and sheets covering him.

Duncan quickly hurried to Richie's side and held the young man's arms down while trying reassure him. "Take it easy, Richie. Everything's fine now. You're safe and back at my loft."

Finally the words and his location seemed to penetrate Richie's mind. He stopped struggling and laid back with a groan. "Oh man. I thought I'd never get out of there."

"How do you feel, Richie?" Duncan asked.

"Cold. I'm so cold." He started to shiver, wrapping his arms around his body in an effort to warm himself. Feeling warmth across his chest, he peered inside the sweatshirt and saw the heating pad there.

"Here, try some of this." Methos handed a cup of the soup's broth to Richie.

Seeing how badly the young man's hands were shaking, Duncan took the cup and helped Richie sit up. "Here, let me help you. I don't want soup all over my bed," he gently teased as he held the cup to Richie's mouth.

Once the soup was gone, Richie laid back with a sigh. With the heat from the soup working internally and the warmth from the heating pad working externally, he was beginning to feel less like an iceberg and more like a human being again. Likewise, his brain kicked into overdrive flooding him with dozens of questions.

Before Richie had a chance to start asking his questions, Duncan beat him to it. "So tell us, Richie, how did you get mixed up with Hargrove?" he asked.

"I had gone up to the park to work out and was on my way back home when I felt an Immortal but I figured it was no big deal since he was going the other way. He must have turned around because the next thing I know, he's trying to run me off the road. I kept trying to shake him and then I felt another Immortal. Figuring I was in big trouble, I made a quick turn onto a side road but Hargrove missed the turn. That bought me enough time to get far enough ahead so that I could ditch my bike. I ran toward this old house I could see and Hargrove followed me. When I asked him why, he just said because I was there. We were right in the middle of the fight when Pierson showed up. I...I..." Richie turned red as he remembered what happened next.

Joe finished for him. "You lost your concentration, got run through, and fell into the well."

"Yeah," Richie muttered. "So how long was I down there anyway? It seemed like forever. I even wondered if maybe Adam had lost the fight and nobody would ever find me."

Quick glances were exchanged between the three men before Duncan answered Richie's question. "You were in the well for at least twenty hours."

"What? What took you so long? Was this supposed to be some kind of lesson I had to learn? First it was getting out of a morgue and getting across Paris without clothes and now getting out of a well by myself?" Richie stared at Duncan, anger filling his face. "Well, thank you very much but I think I can do without any more of your lessons."

"We got you out just as soon as we knew where you were," Duncan tried to calm Richie down.

Now Richie glared at Adam. "Why didn't you tell them? Were you going to leave me down there forever? Did they have to pry my location from you?"

Glad that Richie didn't have enough strength to get out of bed and challenge Methos, Duncan tried once again to calm the young man. "It wasn't his fault, Richie. He got hit by a power line during the Quickening and he couldn't remember what had happened."

"That's right, Richie," Joe chimed in. "In fact, we all thought that Adam had taken your head until about three hours ago."

"Joe!" Duncan groaned in dismay. He hadn't planned on telling Richie that part. But the damage had already been done.

Richie sat up and stared at Duncan in disbelief. "You thought he had taken my head? Then why is he still alive?"

"We'll talk about this later, Richie. When we're alone."

"No, we'll talk about this now!" Richie insisted. "I said later." The tone of his voice and the look that he gave Richie made it quite clear that he wouldn't change his mind.

Methos hadn't survived for five thousand years without being able to tell when the time for retreat was necessary. "Maybe we had better leave now, Joe."

"Yeah, I think you're right. See ya, Mac, Richie."

"I'll go down with you," Duncan said as they headed for the elevator.

"I guess I had better go clean up my mess," Methos said as the elevator descended. "I'll bring Ryan's bike back too so the police won't have any way of linking him to the body."

"Thanks, Methos," Duncan replied.

After showing Joe and Methos out, Duncan wandered around the dojo trying to decide what to tell Richie.

*****

Richie laid back on the bed and thought about what he had just heard. Somehow, he had always assumed that Duncan would care enough about him to seek revenge against whoever took his head. To find out that he hadn't done so hurt more than he could believe. Hadn't their friendship meant anything to Duncan?

Of course, Duncan had let Tessa's killer go, claiming that he couldn't kill him once he found out the man was soon to be married and about to be a father. But that situation didn't apply here. However, he had gone after the Immortal Paul Kinman who had killed his mortal friend in a sword fight almost three hundred years ago.

Duncan was one giant contradiction. Did he only seek revenge against Immortals who hurt mortal friends? But not Immortals who killed Immortal friends? Would Duncan have continued to treat Adam Pierson as a friend even though he thought he had killed Richie?

And where did that leave his friendship with Duncan? Duncan always seemed concerned for Richie's well-being. Was it just force of habit or maybe a sense of duty to continue to protect his former student?

Maybe it was time for him to move on, stand on his own two feet like he did after Mako. Of course, that had ended with Richie running back to Duncan for help again. He had been on his own for a while after 'dying' in Paris too, but somehow that didn't seem quite the same. He and Duncan had parted as friends and they had talked to each other many times on the phone.

In the midst of all of this soul searching, Richie's body gave out and exhaustion claimed him. Unable to remain awake any longer, he fell into a deep sleep. He never heard the elevator returning from the lower level. He didn't see Duncan come over and watch him. Nor did he feel anything when Duncan tucked the covers more securely about him and then tenderly brushed a stray lock of Richie's hair back off of his face. He also missed the solitary tear that rolled down Duncan's face before he turned and made up a bed on the couch.

Richie woke to the smell of coffee and the sounds of Duncan making breakfast. His stomach growled loudly at the thought of food and Richie gave into its demands even though he wasn't sure if he was ready to face Duncan yet. He stumbled out of bed and headed for the bathroom, throwing a brusque "Morning," towards the cooking area as he passed. He didn't wait for an answer and he couldn't bring himself to actually look at Duncan as he passed, afraid of what expression he might see on the Highlander's face.

When the bathroom door shut, Duncan sighed and let his head drop for a moment. Richie must really be upset over this whole thing. It probably didn't help that Richie must still be feeling raw over his affair with Kristen. He had told Methos that Richie would get over it but with this added on, Duncan and Richie's friendship was on shaky ground and any chances of Methos and Richie becoming friends were just about shot.

Still, he felt he had done the right thing by not taking Methos' head. Now he had to convince Richie of that as well. Revenge wasn't all that it was cracked up to be. He thought he had managed to teach Richie that when they had found Tessa's killer. It didn't help to know that the discussion would be made more complicated by having to hide Adam Pierson's real identity.

When he heard the bathroom door open again, Duncan plastered a smile on his face and waited for Richie to emerge. "Morning, Rich. Sleep well?" he greeted the young Immortal.

"Yeah," Richie mumbled as he grabbed a coffee cup and filled it with the steaming liquid.

"Breakfast is almost ready. I hope you're hungry."

Richie gave a small grin as he slid onto a chair on the other side of the kitchen island. "Aren't I always? Especially when you're cooking?"

Duncan grinned back. Maybe this would be easier than he thought. If Richie was already joking around, maybe he wasn't so angry after all. He slid the omelets he had prepared onto two plates followed by hash browns. One of Richie's favorite breakfast combinations.

"We need to talk about yesterday, Richie," Duncan started as he handed Richie one of the two plates.

"I don't want to talk about it now." Richie stared down at his plate, once again refusing to look at Duncan.

"Well, that's too bad because we *are* going to talk about it now." Duncan stated emphatically.

"No we're not. Last night when I was ready to talk about it you said later. Now it's my turn to say later."

"Fine. Then when are we going to talk?"

"Later."

"Richie, I swear, sometimes you can be the most stubborn..." Duncan paused as he searched for the words he wanted to use.

"Aggravating?" Richie suggested.

"Aggravating..." Duncan echoed.

"Infuriating?" Richie added.

"Infuriating..."

"Wonderful?" Richie sneaked in.

"Won...wait a minute," Duncan caught himself at the last minute. "I don't think that applies here."

"It was worth a shot," Richie shrugged.

The two men stared at each other across the island before bursting into laughter.

"Listen, Mac. Why don't we eat first and then talk afterwards. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

After finishing their breakfast, they both refilled their coffee cups and by mutual consent headed for the couch for their twice delayed talk.

"Richie, I want you to understand what yesterday was like for me," Duncan started. "First, Joe told me you were dead. And before I could recover from that, he told me that Adam had done it. At first, I wouldn't believe him but the evidence was overwhelming. Besides being upset about your death, I felt caught in the middle between two friends. You remember what I was like when Kit O'Brady and Amanda wanted to fight each other?"

When Richie nodded, Duncan continued. "It was like that only a hundred times worse. If one of them had killed the other, I would have been left with the same choice as I had yesterday. Whether or not I should kill a friend who had killed another friend. Let me tell you, that is probably the hardest thing I ever had to decide. And who knows, someday I might find myself having to make the same choice about you although I pray it never comes to that. But sometimes the Game doesn't give us any choice."

"I guess I see your point," Richie agreed. "It's just that I thought I meant something to you and when I heard that you hadn't even avenged my death...well, I guess it hurt."

"You do mean something to me, Richie. And believe it or not, I almost did take Adam's head. But he was smart enough to come here unarmed. He counted on my sense of honor to keep his head."

"One of these days that sense of honor is going to get you killed, Mac."

"Maybe it will, Rich. But it's who I am."

"Yeah. So everything would have just gone on as before. You and Pierson would have still been friends. Just no more little Richie to get out of trouble anymore."

Duncan could hear the hurt and pain in Richie's voice. "That's not what happened, Richie. I sent Adam away and told him I never wanted to see him again. Maybe in a century or two I would have been able to forgive him but I knew that I couldn't continue to see him without being reminded of you. It would hurt too much. Even Joe and Adam's friendship broke up over this."

"It did?" Richie seemed amazed at the idea.

"Don't sound so glad about it. Friendships are very important. It was fortunate for all of us that we found out what really happened fairly soon. As it was, a lot of things were said and done that we will never be able to forget. The other fortunate thing was that Adam was willing to forgive Joe and I for believing that he could have killed you. Otherwise, our friendships could have been lost forever. And that would have been a sad thing to happen."

Richie thought about this for a while but his mind kept coming back to his original problem. "Mac, I can understand how it would have been difficult to go after a friend but what if Hargrove had killed me? Would you have gone after him?"

"Yes, I think I would have if I had found out that he had tried to run you off the road first. But if you had challenged him, that would have been different. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, I think so. If someone cheated or broke the rules to take my head then you would avenge my death. But if it was my own stupid fault, you wouldn't. Right?"

Duncan laughed. "Well, that's one way of putting it. I just hope that I don't have to worry about avenging your death for many years to come."

"I hope so, too," Richie added fervently. "The same goes for you, too."

"Well, have we beat this subject into the ground yet?" Duncan asked.

"Pulverized it," Richie grinned back.

"Good. I need to go grocery shopping. Someone keeps eating all of my food and drinking all of my beer."

"I can't imagine who that would be," Richie pulled out his innocent look. "Actually, Mac, if you don't mind, I'd kinda like to take a few days off, maybe go up to the island?"

"Sure, Richie. No problem. Do you want company?"

"No." Richie saw a hurt expression cross Duncan's face at his abrupt answer. "I'd just like a few days alone to sort out things in my mind without distraction. And you know how easy I get distracted." Both men smiled at that comment.

"But maybe after that, you could come up and we could do some fishing or something," Richie suggested.

"That sounds great, Richie. I'll look forward to it."

"Maybe you should invite Adam and Joe along too. Nothing like a little male bonding to help friendships along."

"Are you sure you won't mind, Richie? It could just be the two of us, just like old times."

"No problem, Mac. After all, we're all friends, aren't we?"

"I hope so, Richie. I sincerely hope so."

The end.


End file.
